Motivated by: Inspired by a source of stimulation or aspiration.
This imagination is based on a gif I found on elsenet. It features restriction, orgasm deprivation, orgasm control, anal sex, flogging of breasts, bottom, pussy, and thighs, and ready submission. The narrative point of view belongs to a gladly suffering submissive, trying her best to satisfy her creatively wicked Master.
Master growled in aggravation as the clamps, with the strap linked around my neck like a halter, slipped off my nipples for the third time. In truth, I had been as turned on as he was by the image we stumbled upon that week, of a girl with clover clamps on a chain attached to the back of her neck, holding her breasts up so the cane could reach the undersides easily.
He had been enamored with it so much, it led to tonight's session, but my piercings make it difficult to grasp without the risk of damage, and he is extremely cautious not to harm me, at the very least unintentionally. When he brandmarks me, it is deliberate, since he wants to. He has considered having me take the piercings out, but he appreciates the way they maintain my braless nipples erect, and watching them glitter through my shirts too much.
So he set the clamps aside, and stated, "I've been anticipating this for a week, love. If the clamps won't cooperate, we'll improvise. Pinch your nipples tightly, and lift your breasts like the clamps did. I want access to the underside of your breasts. Grasp them firmly, now!" He declined to stop until they are black and blue, and then we will flog the tops and sides to match. He wants me to endure the flogger for at least a week, and consider this night every time I move my arms or my shirt slides over my chest."
"Yes, Master!" I exclaimed enthusiastically, doing as he directed. Another day, I might have been a little apprehensive. However, we had discovered that the less he permitted me to climax, and the greater aroused he kept me, the more suffering I craved, and he had made me edge every day for a week. I was so needed and dripping and anxious for any sensation, I felt that tonight I would be an ideal submissive.
It was a hazardous mix, shutting my annoying overthinking brain down, yet he was incredibly careful with me. That's why I trusted him. I understood he would push me hard, provide me with what I needed, while ensuring my safety. I'd do anything for him, permit him to do anything he liked, without question. He had gained my trust.
"I realize you never want to deny me, but if it becomes too much, you WILL stop me. I trust you, but I know how avid you are to please me. Tell me, or I will never immersion you again."
"Yes, Master, I comprehend. I will, Master, I swear!"
He smiled in approval, and slapped my breasts hard, one after the other, observing how they moved. "Good submissive."
The flogger made an audible smack, and just the sound made my pussy convulse. He commenced gently, slowly warming them up, making them glow red. Then he gradually hit tougher, swifter, always altering the song, avoiding hitting the same spot repeatedly.
His target, and mine as well, is for me to endure as much as feasible. Striking the same spot multiple times in succession makes it more challenging for me. Various means I can last significantly longer, tolerate much more.
I strained to remain still, to focus on keeping my breasts hoisted for the flogger, to not let my nipples slip out of my grasp. If I did, and he caned my pierced nipple as hard as he caned the meat of my breast, he would be furious. As my goal is always his satisfaction, I centered myself as hard as I could, so I could not frustrate him.
When I labored too much, he picked up the wand and applied it to my aching, vacant vagina. The plug inside me had weights inside it that vibrated with the wand, regardless of the wand not touching the plug directly, and the sensation swiftly became distressing.
"You are prohibited from achieving orgasm, love, do you understand?"
"Yes, Master," I panted. "I won't. I guarantee it."
"Then beg me to stop when you are too close."
"Yes, Master," I pleaded, while squirming. His face brightened, rejoicing at my desperate state. "How wanton you are," he whispered. "Thrusting your hips forward because you know you won't climax. I adore how horny and needy you are, after only a week of restriction and denial."
His ecstasy at my plight made it even more distressing. I was already so aroused and prepared, the orgasm seemed imminent. "Now, Master, plead with me to halt!" I roused him to stop, my irritation exacerbating my submission, which fueled my arousal, which initiated a vicious loop in my body and brain.
He eliminated the wand and switched off, then returned to my breasts with the flogger in a powerful swat.
I cried out, and twisted slightly.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he inquired with concern. "Is it too much?"
"No, sir. I just want to cum so badly, sir!"
He gave one of my chest a hard slap, then raised it slightly. "What did you ask me?" he questioned in a softer tone, giving me enough time to think.
I hadn't asked him anything, but my hazy state from constant edging and arousal made it difficult to remember. However, his rule was to always remain present enough to answer his questions. I had to clear my mind, and eventually, my scrambled thoughts mingled with a past conversation, leading to a reply.
"I asked you to control my orgasms, sir!"
He continued hitting my chest with the cane, emphasising each word. "You pleaded with me. You insisted orgasms not be your choice. This isn't about me; it's about fulfilling your desire to be a submissive, obedient slave. You can't decide; you don't have an opinion. Your pussy is mine to play with whenever I please, and exists solely for my satisfaction. Isn't that what you requested?"
"Yes, sir," I whispered, feeling desperate. "I'm so sorry, sir! I'm just so horny!"
"No need to apologise. That's how I like you, and that's why I keep you that way," he said cheerfully as he picked up the wand again. He kissed me, then place the wand against my clit, making me buck and moan into his mouth.
"You will NOT cum!" he stated firmly, grinning his familiar, evil grin.
"I won't, sir," I said in despair, submerged in submission. His orders were my commands, and obeying them fulfilled me.
I handled the orgasm denial as long as possible before I had to say "Now, please, sir" when I felt close. I almost cried when he pulled the wand away.
"There you go, baby," he said, delighted with my reactions, as he resumed beating my chest with the cane.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir!" I whimpered, Horny beyond words but feeling immensely content.
I no longer attempted to figure out my bizarre wiring. I simply accepted it and was gratified that he enjoyed my behaviour.
I'm unsure how long the session continued before he was satisfied with my discoloured chest.
"Now, spread your chest flat on the dining table while I tie you face-down," he instructed. "I want your ass and pussy accessible. I'm going to try matching the colour of your ass, pussy, and thighs with your chest so that everyone who's coming over to swim tomorrow can see your pain slut tendencies."
"Yes, sir," I responded, laying face-down over the hard dining table.
I was already extremely sexually aroused, the thought of others seeing evidence of my kinks making it even more intense. Or more exhilarating, depending on your perspective. The knowledge that it was my own desires causing this, the fact that they were all aware of my kinks and supportive of me, pumped me up.
"Widened your legs, darling. More. Like a good slut," he encouraged as he tied up my legs, then my arms. He rubbed his fingers over my pussy and recognised how wet I was.
He unzipped his pants and, without further words, thrust his penis into me forcefully. I moaned, reveling in the feeling of his cock in my pussy and the plug in my ass.
"You will not orgasm," he stated again. "Tell me when you're about to."
"Yes, sir!" I groaned, my chest sore as it was pressed against the dining table with every thrust. He fucked me slowly, and ran his nails down my back while I tried not to beg for permission to cum.
In the end, I arrived at the spot where I could no longer hold back the tears and cried out "Now, Sir, please!" He withdrew, seized the cane, and smacked my damp pussy five times to reiterate the notion of whose climaxs I'm subjected to.
I hollered, and attempted to quiver, but the knots were intricately tied, granting me no leeway to tussle. I was inhaling my weeping, mortified beyond comprehension, as he touched my buttocks delicately while whispering endearments to me. "You're impressing me immensely, my dear. How are you faring, my well-fucked doll?"
"More, please, Sir!" I responded promptly, making an effort to control my breathing. "Yes, please, Sir, if you are content with it?"
"I assure you, sweetheart," he retorted with laughter. "I'm captivated by your quick-witted and compliant cock-toy. I revel in observing the flow of your thoughts evaporate from your vagina, darling. It's so fulfilling to silence that incessant, active mind of yours for a while."
"I adore being your sex toy," I disclosed fervently. "Kindly use me more!"
He cackled, nodding in agreement, and whacked my buttocks robustly. "Good doll!" he acclaimed. Then he seized the plug and gradually extricated it, and I wailed. The sensations were incredibly forceful as my body was still chafed and sated from wearing it during the entire car ride.
"Oh, beloved, it's alright," he soothed as he slid his penis into my drenched vagina just long enough to lubricate it. "Don't fret, I won't leave your anus unstimulated for long!" he consoled me. Although injured and aching from wearing the plug the whole time, I neared the brink of climaxing when he penetrated my anus as deep as it could go.
"Please, Sir!! PLEASE... I can't stave off climaxing with your cock penetrating my anus!"
"You will," he declared firmly but tenderly, and began moving at a moderate pace. "Recollect when you discovered you could climax solely from anal?" he inquired. "That was a spicy moment!" His chuckling increased with my moans, and he increased the intensity of his thrusts until he was ruthlessly penetrating my anus.
I was grunting, the agony in my breasts enflaming, being pinioned on the table, and my anus was lax and clutching his cock. An orgasm was gestating, and I fought maniacally to withhold it.
"Sir! SIR! PLEASE!" I bellowed, praying to obey him yet unable to curb my body's reaction to a severe anal reaming.
He pinched my buttocks, then suddenly extracted his penis, and flicked my pussy hard and swift five times in a row. The agony was shocking, making me yell and straining against the ropes ineffectively.
I was gasping, convulsing, struggling against the constraints and terrified of upsetting him, as the waves of joy retreated way too slowly, leaving me furious yet worried about disappointing him, for I was approaching climax.
"Shhh..." He sothed, rubbing my back consolatorily. "It's fine, my cherished one. Let your climax go. It's his, not yours. You're a superb slave, darlin. A superb cock-toy. I'm so proud of you, darling!"
His words efficaciously baffled me. They were almost intoxicating, sparking my admiration and augmenting my submissive stance simultaneously. Every word intoxicated me, for all I desired was his approval. I'd do anything he instructed, anything at all to inspire his happiness. His glee was more gratifying than any narcotic.
I relaxed, soothed by his affectionate words, and when I was breathing effortlessly once again, he inquired "Prepared?"
"Yes, Sir," I asserted, and his face glinted with triumph. "Good pain slut" was his response, and he reinitiated the process. He started waving the cane about my anus, gently warming it up, only to become stronger and more intense, subsequently striking my thighs, and eventually my pussy, alternating with the wand, until I resembled a ubiquitous, shiver-inducing, mess.
Once he determined to climax inside my anus, I was so inebriated in subspace that I couldn't even request an orgasm.
Simultaneously, he kissed me and instructed me "Allow orgasm!" I believed my heart was shattering, the climax was so explosive! Every fiber of my being contracted like I was being electrocuted, and the bliss persisted on and on. It would last nearly 15 minutes before letting me go, making him euphoric and contented.
He helped me to the bathroom to clean up, excluding for obligatory cleaning up, and shared water with me. I dozed off with my skull next to his shoulder, his thigh confined between my legs, and my bosoms pressed against the side of his chest. All the welted and bruised areas left by his fingers felt heavenly, and I slipped into a contented slumber.
It was a mesmerizing night laced with enchantment that left me bearing the imprints of his actions from the knees up to my chest. Over the ensuing week, each time I lifted my arm, brushed by my boob, or sat down, regardless of the softness of the surface, his prediction came true. I was consumed by libido and contentment, constantly reminiscing about him and the cane.
My pussy bore a mixture of swelling and discoloration, yet these marks were not reasons enough to spare me from my daily edge sessions of at least ten times; they were a source of enjoyment for both him and me.
He took immense pleasure in witnessing the consequences of his work, showcasing them to strangers online so they could marvel at the discoloration and welts from the cane on my tits and nipple piercings.
He marveled at how appealing my pussy looked, adorned with vertical stripes and blotches, and bragged about how satisfied he was with the obstinacy of my pain tolerance and my ability to handle what he handed out.
Every day, he demanded that I bend over and send photographs of my ass, bemoaning the overwhelming desire to brand it deeply, and took immense joy in reading aloud the messages of amazement from strangers.
However, I believe he relished telling me about the crowds of onlookers more than anything else. But nothing lifted my spirits more than pleasing him!
Read also:
- Criminally-Tuned Rhythm Chapter 1
- Neighbors Helping Neighbors in Chapter 7
- The Devilish Mechanisms Within
- House-Sitter Part 4
Source: www.nice-escort.de